


i had all and then most of you (some and now none of you)

by revengeparty



Category: Mean Girls (2004), Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Externalized homophobia, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Holidays, Internalized Homophobia, himbo ally Shane Oman, this is an open hate letter to the L train, unrealistic lack of roommates, unresolved mentions of a disordered relationship with food, well not really enemies just... not friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28295706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revengeparty/pseuds/revengeparty
Summary: “You always said when we were kids that you were going to move to New York when you grew up and work in fashion.” Janis shrugs. “And here you are.”“You said you wanted to move to New York, too,” Regina points out. “I guess we can check that off both our bucket lists.”Regina doesn’t bring up the part where they were supposed to live together. To be best friends taking on the big city.She meets Janis’s eyes, and knows she remembers that, too.“Yeah,” Janis says. “I guess we can.”orJanis and Regina find themselves living in the same city and decide to try again.
Relationships: Regina George & Janis Sarkisian, Regina George/Janis Ian, Regina George/Janis Sarkisian
Comments: 5
Kudos: 78





	i had all and then most of you (some and now none of you)

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by this prompt that I got like two years ago:
> 
> "Regina being a Scrooge around the holiday season because it makes her think too much about her childhood memories with Janis but then cut to like them being together again and Regina falling back in love with the holidays (and Janis)."
> 
> But I really wrote this because I love Shane Oman.

_“Don’t knock the tree over!”_

_“I won’t,” Janis says assuredly, even while her eyebrows pinch together as she strains her arm to reach the top of the tree. After a few agonizing seconds, she finally places the glittery, star-shaped topper on the tree._

_“Told you I could do it,” Janis says, hopping down from the chair she had been standing on to admire their handiwork._

_“I think it’s the best the tree has ever looked,” Regina whispers. She doesn’t want her mom overhearing her; Regina knows how hard her mother works to make a nice Christmas for them, especially since her dad left._

_“It’s beautiful,” Janis says._

_Regina turns, and sees Janis is looking at her. She blushes, and squeezes Janis’s hand._

_“Are you ready to light it?” she asks, ignoring the way her heart has suddenly started beating faster._

_Janis scrambles behind the tree and grabs the cord to the Christmas lights. “Ready.”_

_“Okay… go!” Regina cheers, and Janis inserts the plug._

_The lights on the tree blink on, and Regina grins. She looks at Janis, her silhouette softly illuminated._

_Everything, in that moment, is perfect_.

* * *

Regina looks at the tacky, fake Christmas tree in the window of a shop and frowns. Thanksgiving is still more than a week away.

Hoisting her bag farther up her shoulder, Regina turns down the block to head to work, dodging slow-moving pedestrians.

Suddenly, she feels a buzzing in her pocket. Carefully, she fishes out her phone, making sure she doesn’t drop her coffee.

 _Damian Hubbard_ glows on her screen, accompanied by a goofy selfie they took at North Shore High School’s five-year reunion last year.

“Hello?” She holds her phone to her ear with her shoulder as she yanks open the door of the building.

It’s not exactly unusual for Damian to call her. They keep in touch, if somewhat sporadically. He doesn’t live that far away, technically—but in New York City, even New Jersey feels like another country. But he doesn’t usually call her at nine in the morning on a weekday.

“Hey, Regina,” Damian says. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Regina says. She pushes the button for the elevator. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Damian says. “Have you heard from Janis recently?”

“No, why?”

Regina hasn’t really spoken to Janis probably since the reunion. They’re cordial by virtue of operating in the same social circles, but something about her name makes Regina feel a peculiar mix of nostalgia and hurt. Regina imagines Janis feels the same way.

Regina shakes her head. She shouldn’t assume how Janis feels.

“She’s moving to New York City in a week,” Damian tells her. “Got a new job.”

“Oh, good for her,” Regina says neutrally.

“Listen, she probably doesn’t want me telling you this, but she’s getting out of a really bad break-up.” Damian’s voice is low, as if Janis can hear him from Chicago. “It kind of prompted the move. Anyway, can you, like, invite her to coffee or something? It might be good for her to have a familiar face in the city.”

“Do you think…” Regina hesitates. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t think it’ll hurt,” Damian says.

“Okay,” Regina agrees, putting her bag down at her desk.

She hangs up and sits at her desk and stares into space for a while before creating a new text message.

**Regina George:** Hey, Damian said you’re moving here. Want to get coffee? Catch up?

Regina adds a heart emoji but quickly erases it and then presses send before she can think about it too much.

* * *

Janis doesn’t text back for three days, and when she does, all she says is _sure_.

They arrange to meet at a coffee shop around the corner from Janis’s new apartment the next week.

Regina feels strangely nervous. She tries on three different outfits before she tells herself she’s bring ridiculous. It’s just _Janis_. They’ve known each other for well over ten years. It shouldn’t matter what Regina looks like to meet her for coffee.

Except, for some reason, it does.

Regina briefly considers calling Karen or Gretchen for an outfit consult but then realizes she’d have to explain _why_ , so she grabs her purse and leaves her apartment before she can change her mind.

* * *

Janis Sarkisian, age twenty-four, is wearing a leather jacket over an oversized sweater, ripped jeans, combat boots, and the cool expression of a native New Yorker. Her hair is all one length now, falling just above her shoulders, the blond ends long gone.

Janis is the newcomer here, but Regina suddenly feels out of place in the dimly lit, dark-wood Bushwick coffee shop.

“Regina,” Janis says, omitting a greeting with a curt nod. The familiarity of it makes Regina’s chest hurt.

“Hi,” Regina says, toying with the paper straw in her iced coffee. It’s already starting to disintegrate. _Fucking Bushwick hipsters,_ she thinks. “How are you?”

“How much did Damian tell you?” Janis asks.

“Oh, uh,” Regina says, “not a lot. Just that you got a new job here and just had, um, a break-up.”

“Of course he did,” Janis mutters.

Regina shifts in her seat. She’s never gotten used to this closed-off, suspicious Janis. It’s her fault entirely, but Regina has never quite found the right words to fix it. Their relationship is a wound that never healed properly—scarred, stiff, painful.

“Where are you working?” Regina asks, changing the subject. “What are you doing?”

“An advertising firm in midtown,” Janis answers. “I’m working as an artist prepping stuff for advertisement shoots, painting, that kind of thing.”

“I work in midtown, too,” Regina says. “Fashion merchandising.”

Janis gives her a crooked smile. “Of course you do.”

“What does that mean?”

“You always said when we were kids that you were going to move to New York when you grew up and work in fashion.” Janis shrugs. “And here you are.”

“You said you wanted to move to New York, too,” Regina points out. “I guess we can check that off both our bucket lists.”

Regina doesn’t bring up the part where they were supposed to live together. To be best friends taking on the big city.

She meets Janis’s eyes, and knows she remembers that, too.

“Yeah,” Janis says. “I guess we can.”

* * *

Regina’s coworker invites her to some fancy gallery opening in Chelsea a week later.

She immediately calls Shane.

Out of all of her friends, Shane is always the person she’s felt that she can be honest with—probably because he’s been so willing to hide her secrets in the past. As much as Regina loves and trusts Gretchen and Karen and even Cady, her relationship with Shane has always just been easy.

He was the first person she came out to, way back in their senior year of high school.

“Why not just invite her?” Shane asks.

Regina flops down on her bed. “I don’t want Janis to feel like I’m trying to bribe her into being my friend.”

“I don’t see how this is a bribe,” Shane says. “You got invited to something she’d like and you get a plus one.”

“I don’t know. It feels different?”

“How so?”

“It’s—it’s—” Regina waves her arm vaguely, even though he can’t see her. “It’s _Janis_.”

“Regina,” Shane says seriously, “if she doesn’t want to come, she’ll say no. What’s the big deal?”

“I’m worried she still hates me,” Regina admits, hating how insecure she sounds.

“Well, have you apologized?” Shane asks.

“Yes,” Regina says defensively.

“Was it a good apology?”

Regina remembers how she cornered Janis at a party at the end of their junior year, still high on pain medication and admittedly a little drunk too, and apologized. 

Quite honestly, Regina barely remembers what she said.

“Probably not,” Regina concedes.

“Try starting there.”

“Okay,” Regina says softly. “Thanks, Shane.”

“Here when you need me, baby,” Shane says, and then hangs up.

Regina stares at her phone for a while, typing and erasing and re-typing a text message to Janis.

**Regina George:** Got invited to a gallery opening in Chelsea on Saturday. I get a plus one. There will be rich snobs there but free food and alcohol. You in?

Her phone buzzes with a text less than three minutes later.

**Janis Sarkisian** : sure. i love stealing from the rich.

 **Regina George:** It’s technically not stealing if they give it to you.

 **Janis Sarkisian:** semantics.

Regina smiles.

* * *

Regina meets Janis at the gallery at 7 pm on Saturday. She would offer to pick her up, but New York is not the suburbs, and she’s not about to ride the L train in stilettos and a dress.

Also, truthfully, she’s worried enough about tonight as it is without tacking an hour of awkward silence in a stuffy subway car onto it.

Regina shivers outside the venue as the cold night air bites at her legs, trying to school her face into a neutral expression so she isn’t mistaken for some friendless loser who got stood up.

Even though it’s 7:07. And she has no text from Janis.

Oh God, what if Janis is standing her up? What if she only accepted the invitation to get coffee so Regina would invite her to something more public so she could ditch her? If Janis doesn’t show up in the next ten minutes, Regina swears she’ll—

“Hey.”

Regina looks up and sees Janis standing in front of her. She gives Janis her best I-definitely-wasn’t-just-plotting-your-demise smile.

(So maybe she’s still got some issues to work through with her therapist.)

 _At least she’s dressed appropriately_ , Regina thinks. She didn’t want to be too pushy by specifying appropriate dress, but Janis seems to have figured it out herself. Janis has paired one of her signature painted jackets with a sleek black dress and boots. It’s actually pretty hot, but Regina doesn’t comment on it.

“You’re late,” Regina says instead.

“I’m not even ten minutes late.”

“Eight minutes late is still late.”

“God,” Janis huffs, yanking open the door. “You should talk to your doctor about getting that stick up your ass surgically removed.”

“Janis, wait.” Regina hurries after her and grabs Janis’s arm. Janis turns to her with an eyebrow raised. “I was worried you weren’t going to show. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”

“We’re not in high school anymore,” Janis says, but her eyes soften. “I’m not going to go out of my way to hurt you if you do the same with me. Besides, ruining your life stopped being fun after you got hit by a bus.” Regina flinches, and Janis starts to backpedal. “Wait, fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“How about we just start over?” Regina suggests. “Hi Janis, you look hot tonight.”

Janis blinks, looking surprised. “Uh, thanks,” she says. “Do you want to get something to drink?”

“Sure as fuck do,” Regina mutters, locating a waiter walking around with a tray of wine-filled glasses.

“So how do these things usually go?” Janis asks, sipping her wine and surveying the small, dimly lit gallery.

Regina shrugs. “I’ve never gone to one of these things before.”

“Really?” Janis asks. “I figured you spent your weekends laughing it up with rich socialites and talking about how much better you are than everyone else.”

“I’m more of a stay at home and talk about how much better I am than everyone else kind of girl,” Regina says, pursing her lips and examining a painting.

“Where do you live?” Janis asks, boots clunking against the hardwood floor.

“Upper West Side.”

Janis snorts. “Of course you do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Janis placates. “Just suits you.”

“Well, Bushwick suits you.”

“Are you calling me a hipster?” Janis asks.

“Are you saying you’re not a hipster?”

“No!” Janis says, loud enough that a few people around them turn to them with disapproving frowns.

“Oh, calm down,” Regina shushes her, turning away to hide her smile. She may have left her high school persona in Illinois but she can’t deny that riling Janis up is still a tiny bit fun.

They drift around the gallery. Janis looks at the paintings, and Regina drinks wine and watches Janis look at the paintings. Regina has never been particularly interested in visual art. Maybe it’s because she associates it so closely with Janis that it has always felt like something off-limits to her.

“When this guy paints three black squares on a blank background he gets to sell it for $15,000,” Janis drawls. “But when I do it I’m ‘destroying the living room paint job again.’” She holds her fingers up in air quotes.

Regina snorts. “You were ahead of your time.”

“I think my mom would disagree.”

“How is your mom?” Regina asks.

“She’s doing okay.” Janis knocks back the rest of the wine in her glass. “In remission.”

“In remission?” Regina repeats, confused.

“She had breast cancer a couple years ago, but they caught it early.” Janis says it so nonchalantly.

“She did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Janis squints at her. “Why would I?”

She’s right, but it still feels like a punch to Regina’s stomach. She doesn’t answer.

They walk around the gallery in silence, Regina looking at the art through unseeing eyes.

“You want to look at anything else?” Regina asks through gritted teeth. She has a headache from the wine, and her back is starting to ache. She should have known better than to wear such high heels.

“No, we can go,” Janis says.

Once outside, Regina scans the street. She spots a bench next to a bus stop and sits, closing her eyes for a moment at the lessened pressure on her spine.

“What are you doing?” Janis asks as Regina digs in her purse and pulls out a pair of white tennis shoes.

Regina kicks off one of her heels, careful to not let her bare foot touch the dirty street, and pulls on the tennis shoe. “I can’t wear heels for very long,” Regina says, yanking the laces tight.

“What? Why not?”

“I got hit by a bus,” Regina reminds her with a bit more bite than she intends, shoving her heels in her bag and standing, noting that she’s now a good four inches shorter than Janis. “Remember?”

“Oh.” Janis nods. “Right.”

They stand there in awkward silence for a moment.

“Well, I had a good time,” Janis says, “even though you called me a hipster.”

“At most I implied you’re a hipster.”

“Good night, Regina,” Janis says, laughing.

Regina stands shivering on the street corner until Janis disappears from view.

* * *

Regina has a text from Janis when she wakes up. It was sent at 1:42 am.

**Janis Sarkisian:** L train took a FULL FUCKING HALF HOUR to show up

 **Regina George:** That’s what you get for being a Bushwick hipster

Janis texts her back a photo of herself flipping off the camera with a wide, bright smile on her face.

Regina saves the photo and drags herself out of bed and into the shower.

* * *

_“I don’t want a lot for Christmas,” Regina lip-syncs into an imaginary microphone she clutches in her hand. “There is just one thing I need.”_

_“I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree,” Janis lip-syncs back, popping out of a rack of sweaters. She knocks one to the ground and steps over it carelessly._

_“I just want you for my own.” Regina gets down on one knee and pretends to serenade Janis in the middle of the North Shore mall Macy’s. “More than you could ever know.”_

_“Make my wish come true,” Janis croons, giggling as she sings even as other shoppers give them curious looks. She grabs Regina’s hand. “All I want for Christmas is—”_

_“Regina!”_

_Regina stands up quickly, turning to see the irritated face of her father, rapidly approaching._

_“Is this how we behave in public?” he asks, voice low._

_“No, sir,” Regina says softly, looking at her feet._

_“Good.” He nods once before going back over to the jewelry counter._

_Regina turns and looks at Janis, who is swimming in a monstrously ugly velvet, leopard-print coat that reaches her knees, sleeves masking her hands._

_“What do you think?” Janis asks seriously._

_She maintains her serious expression for no more than three seconds before they both dissolve into giggles, running to another section of the store where Regina’s dad can’t see them._

* * *

“Who the fuck is playing Christmas music in November?” Regina gripes, putting her coffee down on her desk with more force than necessary.

“Oh, don’t be such a scrooge,” Regina’s co-worker teases.

Regina flashes her sweetest smile. “Why don’t you mind your own business, Linda?”

The smile on Linda’s face evaporates, and Regina feels like a jackass. A headache is already gnawing at her temples. She unlocks her phone and looks at the photo Janis sent her again. It makes her smile a little bit.

Regina is going through her backlog of emails—a seemingly insurmountable task—when she gets a text from Janis.

**Janis Sarkisian:** hey, do you have plans for thanksgiving?

Regina frowns and looks at the calendar, and is surprised to find that Thanksgiving is only three days away.

**Regina George:** Nope

 **Janis Sarkisian:** i don’t either. want to hang out or smth? we don’t even have to do the traditional thanksgiving thing. we can just order takeout.

Something about Janis asking Regina to spend time together for the first time in twelve years suddenly makes her want to cry. She feels like her twelve-year-old self, making plans with the best friend she’s ever had.

Before she dropped a nuclear bomb on their relationship.

**Regina George:** Sure, sounds perfect.

 **Regina George:** Wait. Does this mean I have to take the L train?

 **Janis Sarkisian:** 😈

* * *

On Thanksgiving afternoon, Regina grabs a bottle of wine from her wine rack, yanks on a pair of sneakers, and braves the holiday crowds to make her way to Janis’s apartment. She takes a jam-packed C train to 14th street and switches to the L, elbowing through people in the station. When she finally gets off at DeKalb Avenue, she feels like there are dozens of tiny needles poking into her back.

There is something distinctly Janis about the neighborhood. Bushwick is rapidly gentrifying, but there’s still something gritty, something rough around the edges about the buildings, the sidewalk, the hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, and the little pizza joint she passes.

Janis lives in a nondescript building on a quiet residential street. Regina examines the doorframe as she waits for Janis to buzz her in. Someone has scrawled the words “fuck bitches, get money” on it in peeling pink paint.

“Hey, how are—oh my God, are you okay?” Janis says when she opens the door of her apartment.

Regina grimaces. Maybe she’s not as good as pretending she isn’t in pain as she thinks she is.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she says, handing Janis the bottle of wine. “Just a long subway ride standing.”

“Here, come inside.” Janis leads Regina into her tiny living room and sets down the wine. There’s a couch, a coffee table, a bookshelf, a television, and not much else.

“This is going to look so weird but…” Regina carefully lowers herself to the ground and lies flat on her back on the grey area rug.

Janis gives her a half-smile. “Do what you gotta do. I’ll be right back.”

Regina stares at the off-white ceiling and pulls one bent leg to her chest, then the other, stretching out her back muscles.

Janis reappears with two wine glasses and a bottle of Ibuprofen. “Fuck your liver, right?” she jokes.

Regina laughs a little as she sits up. She shakes a couple of pills into her palm while Janis fills the glasses, then pops them into her mouth and swallows them.

“What do you want to eat?” Janis asks, opening her laptop. “There’s a good Chinese place nearby, and the pizza around here isn’t bad. I’ve already checked and they’re still open today.”

“Get whatever you want,” Regina says, feeling the anxiety associated with eating unhealthy, oily food creeping into her stomach. “I’m fine with whatever.”

Janis clicks for a few moments, then turns the laptop to Regina. Regina scrolls through the Chinese food menu and selects a vegetable dish and chicken. She thinks about how many miles she’ll run the next morning.

“It should be here in 30 to 45 minutes,” Janis says. She closes her laptop.

Regina surveys the apartment. Across the narrow hallway from the living room is a kitchen, a dining table with mismatched chairs tucked in the corner. She feels a twinge in her back and takes a sip of her wine before lying back down on the carpet.

Regina hears shuffling and turns to see Janis lying down next to her in the opposite direction, their heads several inches apart.

Janis looks at her and smiles softly, eyes sad. It makes something in Regina’s stomach flutter.

“How come you aren’t in Evanston?” Janis asks.

“Why aren’t you?”

“God,” Janis huffs, rolling her eyes. “Stop being so defensive all the time.”

“I’m sorry,” Regina says quietly. She looks back up at the ceiling. “Holidays just… aren’t my thing. I love my mom, but my dad…”

“I know,” Janis says. “I remember.”

“He’s not okay with—things are still tense about—” Regina flounders. She twists her sweater in one hand, the words she wants to stay getting stuck in her throat. _Your dad doesn’t like that you’re a lesbian. Just say it,_ Regina says to herself, but she can’t make herself do it. “I’m sorry,” she says instead.

If she’s not brave enough to come out to Janis, she can still be brave enough to apologize properly.

A beat of silence passes.

“For what?” Janis asks, her expression unreadable.

“Janis, I can’t—I don’t—I don’t want to—” Regina stumbles over her words in her nervousness, but can’t keep dancing around it anymore. “I’m sorry. I just—I need you to know I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you like that. It wasn’t you. It was never you. It was me, and I was so terrible to you, and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Janis says quietly. She’s quiet for a long moment. “I’m still—it still hurts.” Her voice wavers, and she clears her throat. “It really fucked me up, you know?”

“Yeah,” Regina whispers, the lead weight of guilt sitting heavily in her stomach.

“Sometimes I think I’m over it, and then someone says something, and I feel like I’m twelve again. So I don’t think I can forgive you right now. I want to. I want to move on from this, but I’m just not there yet.”

“Okay,” Regina says, breathing in Janis’s patchouli perfume. She can hardly remember the last time she was this close to Janis. It makes her chest ache.

Janis’s phone rings, and she sits up to retrieve it from the coffee table. Regina immediately misses her warmth.

“Sure, I’ll be right down,” Janis says into her phone.

“That was fast,” Regina comments.

“I guess there aren’t too many lonely losers ordering Chinese food on Thanksgiving.” Janis jams her feet into a pair of slippers. “Be right back.”

Gingerly, Regina sits up and checks her phone. She has a text from Shane that says _thankful for you_ with a heart emoji. It makes her smile.

Janis reappears, kicking the door open with a slipper-clad foot, a paper bag in her arms. She puts the bag down on the coffee table and crosses the hallway to the kitchen to retrieve plates and utensils.

“Thank you,” Regina says, poking a fork at a piece of broccoli. She pushes the food around on her plate, examining the oily sheen it leaves behind in streaks, trying to eat as little as possible without arousing suspicion.

Janis only nods in response.

“How come you’re not home with your family?” Regina asks, curiosity getting the best of her.

“No particular reason,” Janis says with a shrug. “I just moved here a few weeks ago so it just didn’t feel worth it to go back so soon. Thanksgiving has never really been my thing anyway.”

“I get that,” Regina says. “I could have gone home, I guess. I just didn’t want to sit through another awkward holiday where my mom does all the talking for us.”

Janis just nods again, and they fall quiet. Regina thinks about her twelve-year-old self, promising Janis that they would one day move to New York City together. She wonders what her younger self would think if she could see Regina sitting in Janis’s living room in stilted silence, trying to convince herself to eat a piece of chicken.

“So what do you do for fun?” Janis asks finally.

“Um,” Regina says, “read, go for runs…” She trails off. “Sometimes I’ll see a Broadway show.”

Janis gives her a strange look. “Is that it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Janis says lightly. “I don’t know, it just sounds… tamer than I had expected.”

“Sometimes I go out for drinks with my co-workers after work,” Regina says. It’s not a lie—she did go out with them once. Never mind that it was three months ago.

“Do you have friends?” Janis asks bluntly.

Regina feels her cheeks turn red. “Yes,” she says shortly.

Janis looks like she wants to ask another question, but she doesn’t say anything else.

“I have friends!” Regina insists.

“Okay,” Janis says neutrally, “you have friends.”

“I _do_ have—”

“Wow, you really have not calmed down at _all_ since high school, have you?” Janis snaps, although Regina thinks she detects a hint of amusements. “Call off the attack, Military Barbie.”

Despite herself, Regina laughs.

“My therapist says I have control issues,” she admits, picking at the carpet, “especially when it comes to people’s perceptions of me.”

“Everybody says you have control issues with everything.”

Regina huffs but doesn’t reply, cracking her back one last time before standing up. A framed photo on the bookshelf catches her eye, and she picks it up. It’s the group photo they took at spring fling their junior year. Regina is leaning on Shane, silver bow askew on her neck brace and her eyes glassy from the painkillers. The broken spring fling queen crown is tangled in Janis’s hair, and her smile is as big as Regina has ever seen it. Cady’s face is flushed and she looks at Aaron in the lion suit with a sickeningly adoring smile. Regina remembers all of it, but it feels like it happened a lifetime ago to a completely different person. 

Regina puts the photo down and looks at Janis, who looks a bit embarrassed. 

“Want to watch a movie or something?” Janis asks, plopping down on the couch.

Regina shrugs. “Sure.” She sits on the other end of the couch, folding her legs underneath her.

Janis picks up the remote and turns on the television, opening Netflix.

Something catches Regina’s eye as Janis scrolls.

“Wait, you’re only on the third episode of Queer Eye?” Regina blurts, then bites her tongue. Janis probably doesn’t want _gay stuff_ with her.

Janis stares at her for a long moment, and for one scary second Regina thinks Janis is about to tell her to fuck off.

Instead, Janis quietly says, “Please don’t tell Damian.”

Regina laughs. “How have you gotten away with that for this long?” She had come out to Damian shortly after she graduated from college while she was fairly drunk at a party at Gretchen’s. Damian had texted her every day until she caved and binge-watched the show.

Janis shrugs. “Do you… want to watch it?” she asks hesitantly. “You know, so you can’t use this information to blackmail me later.”

“Oh,” Regina says, blinking in surprise. “Sure.”

She’s fairly—but not entirely—sure Janis is joking.

It’s almost unbearably awkward at first.

Regina is hyperaware of everything she does—how loudly she’s breathing, the way her hands toy with a loose thread on a couch, the foot of space between the two of them. She isn’t _doing_ anything, but she feels like she’s going it wrong.

Janis laughs quietly at something Jonathan says, takes a sip of her beer, relaxes into the couch cushions. It’s reassuring. Regina tries to let the tension seep out of her shoulders. The wine helps; she hasn’t had much to eat today, so she’s feeling buzzed after one glass.

Regina sneaks a peek at Janis. She’s smiling, chin propped on her hand. Regina feels a fluttering sensation in her stomach, nostalgia mixed with something she can’t put her finger on. It feels like how things used to be, back when they were friends, but somehow entirely different.

* * *

_Regina watches Janis, curled up in her sleeping bag and breathing evenly, with warm fondness. The lights on the Christmas tree cast a warm glow on her relaxed face._

_It’s Regina’s favorite Christmas tradition, their December 23 rd sleepover. No matter how much Regina begs her parents to let Janis sleep over on Christmas Eve, they won’t budge, so this is their compromise. _

_Regina loves to sleep in the living room by the Christmas tree. The tree makes the house feel more like a home, rather than a pristine estate. It makes her feel cozy. Safe. Warm. Peaceful._

_Coincidentally, that’s how Janis makes her feel, too._

* * *

Regina awakens with a start, disoriented and confused.

She blinks in the darkness of the room that is not her own, a soft blanket haphazardly thrown across her body.

Janis’s apartment, she remembers. She must have fallen asleep. She checks the time on her phone, squinting at the bright light. 2:43 am. The darkness makes the spare room feel even emptier.

Her back hurts like a bitch and she struggles to sit up. She requests an Uber on her phone as she pulls on her shoes, then tiptoes out of the apartment, easing the door shut behind her.

It doesn’t occur to her that Janis would have wanted her to stay over until she wakes up and sees a text from her.

**Janis Sarkisian:** i was going to take you to this cool diner near my apartment for brunch today but i see you would rather get kidnapped and murdered by a cab driver in the middle of the night

Regina rolls her eyes.

**Regina George:** Sorry to disappoint you but I am alive.

 **Janis Sarkisian:** bummer. i had a lovely arrangement for your funeral all picked out.

 **Regina George:** That’s thoughtful but I have a very specific color palette.

 **Janis Sarkisian:** black. the universal color palette for funerals is black.

 **Regina George:** You were going to get me BLACK flowers?

 **Janis Sarkisian:** no but everything goes with black so

 **Regina George:** ABSOLUTELY NOT

 **Janis Sarkisian:** ok jesus relax

Regina deletes her half-formed rant about the myth that black goes with everything and drags herself out of bed to shower.

* * *

Regina’s phone lights up with a FaceTime request from Cady just as the last bit of light fades from the sky that evening.

“Hi, Cady—”

“ _Look_ at our Christmas tree!” Cady interrupts loudly, her face inches from the camera.

“Still looking at your face, Cady.”

“Oh.” There’s a dull thud as Cady taps at the screen until the camera flips, showing a tall and somewhat unstable-looking tree covered in rainbow lights and a hodgepodge of ornaments. It is, in Regina’s opinion, painfully tacky.

“That looks great,” Regina tells her.

“I wanted to get the tallest tree they had, but Aaron said it would be too tall for our place,” Cady says seriously, panning over the tree to show Regina just how many Lion King ornaments she’s managed to collect.

“So what happened?” Regina asks, even though Cady and Aaron’s Christmas tree selection process sounds wholly uninteresting.

Cady sighs, as if it is all too much. “If I let Aaron choose the tree he said I could decorate it however I wanted.”

“I can see that.”

The camera flips back around, showing Cady smiling fondly at the tree. Regina feels a stab of jealousy in her chest. She’s happy that Cady and Aaron have each other, even if they are overly sappy and post way too many photos on Instagram. Regina wants to have that with someone—a person to compromise on Christmas decorations with, to be happy even if their tree is ugly.

“I heard you’ve been hanging out with Janis,” Cady says.

“Yeah,” Regina confirms casually, but inside she’s desperate to ask if Janis has said anything about her.

“That’s good,” Cady says. “I’m glad she has a friend there.”

“I think ‘friend’ is an overstatement.”

“You’ll get there,” Cady tells her confidently.

“I hope so,” Regina says quietly.

“So,” Cady says after a moment, “any cute girls in your life recently?”

Regina rolls her eyes. Ever since she came out to Cady, her friend has been annoyingly invested in her dating life. “Mind your own business,” she says, but there’s no bite to it, and Cady laughs.

“Get out there!” Cady encourages. “You could take a date to go skating, or to a holiday market, or—oh! You could go see the tree in Rockefeller Center!”

Regina suspects this is Cady’s personal holiday bucket list, but thinking about doing holiday activities with some faceless, hypothetical girl makes Regina feel uncomfortable for a reason she can’t identify.

Regina hears a door open and close in Cady’s house, and Cady turns away from the camera.

“Oh, Aaron’s home,” Cady says, looking back at her screen. “I have to go. We’re going to watch a Christmas movie.”

 _It’s still November_ , Regina thinks distastefully, but she nods. “Have fun.”

“Bye!” Cady says before ending the call.

Regina flops down on her couch and stares at the Tinder icon on her phone for a long time before she locks her phone and tosses it onto the coffee table.

* * *

_“I didn’t know how many marshmallows you wanted, so I brought the whole bag,” Regina says, setting a tray with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the coffee table._

_“However many will fit,” Janis says, grabbing the bag and dropping at least ten mini marshmallows into her mug._

_Regina picks up the remote and navigates to the play button on the_ Home Alone _DVD home screen. The warm, fuzzy feeling that she always gets when she watches her favorite Christmas movie with Janis settles in her chest as she sips her hot chocolate, not even caring when it scalds her tongue._

_A sudden pressure on her shoulder makes her startle, and Regina’s heart pounds as she almost spills her hot chocolate on her parents’ Italian suede sofa. She realizes it’s just Janis resting her head on Regina’s shoulder, and smiles softly as she tilts her head to feel Janis’s soft hair against her cheek._

* * *

“The office holiday party is this Friday, don’t forget,” Linda chirps, weaving around the desks to hand out fliers to each of Regina’s coworkers—the same fliers that are littering the office walls and even, for some reason, inside the bathroom stalls.

Regina purses her lips and bitterly remembers the passive-aggressive email she got once from her supervisor about the office printing budget after she printed fifty pages for a project.

“Merry Christmas, Regina!” Linda says, extending a flier to her.

Regina looks at her calendar. It’s December 15th. “Okay,” she says.

“Remember, our holiday party is this Friday, and you get to bring a plus-one,” Linda tells her. “A pretty girl like you must have a boyfriend to bring, right?” She winks.

Irritation flares in Regina’s stomach. “Oh, I’ll be there,” she snaps, “with my _girlfriend._ ”

Linda’s eyes widen and her smile falters for a moment before she pastes it back on. “Great!” she says with (what Regina suspects is) fake enthusiasm, moving to the next desk.

Regina smiles to herself, satisfied, before she realizes what she’s just said. Anxiety settles in her chest. Where is she going to find a date in—she looks at her calendar again—three days?

Her phone buzzes with an email, lighting up her lockscreen. It’s a goofy selfie she and Janis took in front of a particularly elaborate holiday window display the last time they hung out.

Before she can talk herself out of it, Regina grabs her phone and opens a text message to Janis.

**Regina George:** Hey, do you want to grab a drink after work?

It’s an agonizing six minutes before Janis texts back.

**Janis Sarkisian:** sure, the bar on the corner by your office?

 **Regina George:** 👍 🥰 🍹

Regina cringes after she sends her response. She has got to stop texting Karen so much.

* * *

Regina perches on the edge of a bar stool, swirling her straw around in her Malibu sunset and willing the man at the end of the bar making eyes at her to not attempt to interact with her while she waits for Janis.

“Hey.”

Janis sidles up next to her and leans her elbows on the sleek bar top.

Regina slides a glass of beer towards her. “I ordered for you.” She pauses. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Perfect.” Janis takes the glass and leads them away from the bar towards a table farther back.

Regina sits, feeling nervous and wired, like there’s extraneous energy radiating from her fingertips. She fidgets with the paper umbrella she pulled out of her drink, then with the edge of the small napkin under her glass.

“What’s wrong with you?” Janis asks, eyeing her with a wary look on her face.

“Nothing!” Regina sits up straight, folding her hands in her lap.

Janis flicks her eyes to the tattered edge of the napkin, then back up at Regina, saying nothing.

Regina sighs. “I have to tell you something.”

Janis nods seriously. “You secretly love Wicked.”

Regina blinks. “Wha—what?” she splutters. “Who told you _that_?”

“Damian, who heard it from Gretchen.”

“Ugh,” Regina scoffs. “I’ll kill her.”

“You know Gretchen is, like, the worst at keeping secrets, right? Like, you should know that from experience.”

Regina shakes her head, pushing away thoughts of the text she’ll be sending Gretchen later. She’s getting distracted. “Anyway…” She takes a breath, willing her heart rate to slow down.

Janis looks at her, eyebrows raised expectantly.

Regina looks at the table, and thinks about the shocked look on Linda’s face, remembers the satisfaction of shutting her up.

She also spares an apologetic thought for her therapist for once again unhealthily using revenge as motivation.

“I’m gay,” Regina says quietly.

Janis doesn’t say anything for a long moment, her face unreadable. “You’re uninvited from my pool party,” she deadpans finally.

Regina resumes picking at the napkin. “It’s not funny,” she says shortly.

“No, it isn’t,” Janis agrees. She sighs. “I guess I kinda saw this coming.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You were literally obsessed with Cady for an entire year.”

“I was not!” Regina protests indignantly.

Janis waves a finger at her. “You can’t play the I-was-in-love-with-Aaron card anymore.”

Regina scowls. “You’re the worst.”

Janis hides a smirk behind her glass. “That’s a lofty accusation, coming from you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Regina says. “I didn’t want to… to seem like…” She waves her hand vaguely.

“Seem like you were excusing your behavior?” Janis supplies.

“Yeah.” Regina nods.

Janis rests her elbow on the table and cups her chin in her hand, giving Regina pointed look. “I think you can both be a lesbian and be responsible for your shitty behavior.”

“I am,” Regina says. “Both of those.”

Janis sits back in her chair, seemingly satisfied. “Good.”

“There’s something else.” Regina bites her lip, nervous.

“Oh?”

“So my coworker—I hate that bitch, by the way—said something heteronormative—”

Janis interrupts her with a sudden, loud bark of laughter before she covers her mouth with her hand.

“What?”

“Sorry,” Janis says, not sounding at all apologetic. “You need to give me time to get used to you using words like ‘heteronormative.’”

Regina kicks her in the shin under the table and Janis yelps, affronted.

“Hey!”

“ _Anyway_ , my bitch coworker was talking at me about the office holiday party and was like, _I’m sure you have a boyfriend you can bring_ ,” Regina says, her voice high and mocking.

“Oh, I hate that bitch, too.”

“Right? So I told her I would be there…” She pauses, feeling a little (a lot) stupid. “…with my girlfriend.”

“Which you don’t have.”

“Hey! I could have one.”

“But you don’t, because you’re sitting here with me looking like you’re afraid I’m going to punch you in the face instead of auditing your hypothetical girlfriend’s outfit options for this party.”

Regina scrunches up her face, deeply resenting the way Janis can still read her like a book, all these years later.

“So will you do it?”

“Will I do what?” Janis asks, lips twitching, and Regina _knows_ she’s being intentionally obtuse.

“Will you come with me to my office holiday party?” Regina asks through gritted teeth.

“As your friend?”

Regina considers kicking her again before deciding it won’t help her case. “Will you come with me to my office holiday party as my pretend girlfriend?”

Janis tucks a hand under her chin, animatedly pondering the question. “I’ll think about it.”

“What?”

“Have your people call my people.”

“I genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, hate you,” Regina grumbles.

“I’m starting to understand why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

Regina just glares at her, wishing that Janis was even a little intimidated by her.

Janis basks in the success of pushing Regina’s button for a few moments longer before she relents. “Okay, okay, I’ll go. But only to make a straight person uncomfortable. And the free food.”

Regina grins, victorious. “Thank you!”

Janis just nods. “You can show me your gratitude by buying me a drink.”

“I bought you that one.” Regina points at Janis’s almost-empty glass.

“Hmm.” Janis drains the glass and sets it back on the table. “Another one, then.”

Regina rolls her eyes. “Fine.”

* * *

Regina flops down on her bed when she gets home, groaning at the dull ache in her back. There had been no available seats on the C train, and even though the ride from midtown to the Upper West Side isn’t long, she’s tired. And a little bit drunk.

Her phone starts buzzing from where her purse is on the floor next to her bed and she groans again as she reaches an arm down to fish it out. Shane’s face fills her screen with a FaceTime call.

“Hi Shane.”

“Hey, babe. How did it go?”

In her post-outburst panic at work, Regina had texted Shane for reassurance.

“Well, I came out to Janis and she didn’t throw a drink in my face or anything.”

Shane beams at her through the phone, and Regina softens, affection filling the space in her stomach where the anxiety had been bubbling all day.

“That’s great! I’m proud of you,” Shane tells her sincerely.

“Thank you,” Regina says quietly. “She agreed to come to the party with me.”

Shane pumps a fist in the air. When Regina doesn’t muster up more than a small smile, he frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Regina sighs, trying to sort out her emotions. “I guess I’m worried?”

“About what?” Shane asks.

“What if… what if I’m asking her to do too much? And she decides she wants to stop being friends?” Regina chews on the inside of her cheek anxiously.

“I can always hop on a plane and come to the party with you, if you need me,” Shane offers.

“I kind of need a girl for this.”

“Well, I happen to look great in a dress.”

Regina laughs. “I will keep that in mind.”

“But seriously, Gi,” Shane says, “I know you’re good at getting people to do what you want, but when has Janis ever been scared to say no to you?”

Regina briefly reflects on numerous occasions that Janis has enthusiastically said no to her, often with an accompanying middle finger.

“What are you going to wear? Do you want to give me a fashion show?” Shane asks.

“Do you really care what I wear to this thing?”

“Of course not,” Shane says. “But this is the only way you’re ever going to take your clothes off for me now, so…”

Regina laughs, making a face at him. “Good night, Shane.”

“Night, babe. I love you.”

Regina smiles. “I love you too.”

She hangs up, dropping her phone next to her on the bed. She pulls herself into a sitting position with some difficulty, shuffling over to her closet and starting to rifle through her dresses.

Shane has a point. She should start thinking about what she’s going to wear on Friday.

* * *

_Regina sighs and settles into the plush cushions of the couch, uninterested in the plate of gingerbread cookies in her lap. Around her, her father’s coworkers mingle with each other and talk about impossibly boring things, like the stock market and their year-end bonuses._

_Janis takes the opportunity to snatch a cookie off Regina’s plate, nibbling on the little gingerbread man’s arm. Regina is grateful that her parents let her bring a friend to her father’s company’s annual holiday party, even if she does feel bad that she dragged Janis to the world’s lamest party._

_“What do you think she does?” Janis asks, subtly pointing to a rotund lady in a green silk dress and a fur wrap adorning her shoulders._

_“I don’t know,” Regina mutters._

_“Then make it up. What’s her backstory?”_

_Regina frowns, thinking. “She doesn’t have a job. She tricks rich men into marrying her, then kills them to keep their money. The police suspect her, but they can’t prove it.”_

_Janis looks at her, a smile playing on her lips. “That’s dark.” She looks at the woman again. “And probably true.”_

_“Anyone who still insists on wearing real fur probably has a dark past,” Regina agrees. “What about… her?” She points to an older woman with her greying pulled back in bun and glittery Christmas tree earrings in her ears._

_“She’s old money,” Janis says sagely. “Inherited the family business, never really had to work. She travels the world with her wife.”_

_Regina freezes, a stab of anxiety tightening her stomach, and then laughs nervously, as if Janis was joking. Janis looks at her and they share a moment of intense eye contact. Jains looks like she’s searching for something._

_Regina averts her gaze, standing up. “I’m, uh, going to go get a soda,” she says before heading towards the buffet table._

_She feels Janis’s eyes boring holes in her back, but for some reason she feels like she’ll crumble to a pile of dust if she looks at her friend any longer._

****

* * *

Friday is an unusually cold day for mid-December in New York City, the wind wrapping around Regina’s bare ankles and making her cheeks flush red. She hugs herself and bounces a little on her toes as she waits for Janis, who is running a few minutes late as always.

Finally, she spots Janis heading up the street, hands jammed in her coat pockets and head bent against the wind. Regina lifts a hand above her head and Janis nods to her.

“It was forty-five degrees all week and all of a sudden it’s winter now? Fuck this,” Janis grumbles in lieu of a greeting when she reaches Regina.

“Hello Janis, would you like to go indoors?”

“I would _love_ to,” Janis says as another gust of wind blasts down the block. “Lead me to the heterosexuals.”

Regina snorts, pulling on the door to the restaurant and holding it open for Janis. Her office has rented the top floor of a dimly lit, wood-paneled restaurant and bar.

As they climb the stairs, Regina’s palms start to sweat, and she can’t shake the feeling that she’s doing something she’ll regret.

 _It’s just one party,_ she tells herself, _and then you and Janis will look back on this and laugh_.

They hang their coats on a rack in the corner before Regina all but drags Janis to the bar, ordering herself a glass of white wine. She takes a few generous sips as she takes a moment to appraise Janis’s outfit—a slightly shimmery silver, slouchy sweater, close-fitting black pants, and bright red Doc Martens that complement Regina’s red dress.

“Now what?” Janis asks, swirling the ice around in her glass of whiskey.

“Uh.” Regina surveys the room. “There’s ornament decorating and gingerbread houses over there, and I think I heard there would be karaoke.” She pauses. “I know it’s lame. We can go in like an hour.”

“No, I love cliché holiday party activities,” Janis says, and Regina can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or not. “Shall we decorate some ornaments?”

Regina politely greets the coworkers she passes as they make their way to the table in the corner covered in blank plastic ornaments, paint, glitter, ribbons, and glue.

“Hi Regina,” Kevin, the office manager who drinks several cups of coffee every day, says as they sit down. He smiles at Janis. “Who’s this?”

“This is Janis, my… girlfriend,” Regina says hesitantly.

Awkwardness with Janis aside, Regina isn’t technically out at work. She’s not _not_ out, but it hasn’t exactly come up in day-to-day conversation. She waits with bated breath for his reaction.

Kevin’s eyes flash briefly with surprise, but then he smiles. “Nice to meet you,” he says to Janis. “I’m Kevin.”

“Hey,” Janis says with an easy smile. She picks up an ornament and starts pulling different colors of paint towards her.

Regina begins halfheartedly painting snowflakes onto an ornament. The plastic globes are too garish for her own tree, but her mother loves shit like this, so she tries not to make it look like it was painted by a five-year-old.

“So how did you two meet?” Kevin asks as he begins, for some reason, to paint his entire ornament purple.

“We grew up in the same town,” Regina answers.

“Oh, high school sweethearts?”

“Um,” Regina says, “something like that.”

She makes inane small talk with Kevin until she notices that a few of her coworkers who had been milling around are starting to cluster around them, peering over Janis’s shoulder.

Regina’s breath catches in her throat when she sees the ornament Janis is painting. It’s a beautiful snowy forest, the sky layered with different shades of blue to make it seem like it stretches on forever. Delicate footprints wind their way around the ornament and into the forest, where Janis has dotted in the trees in bright colors as if they’ve been strung with rainbow lights.

“Wow,” Regina breathes, and Janis looks up, seeing the attention she’s drawn, and smiles sheepishly.

“You must be an artist,” one of Regina’s coworkers—the one who invited Regina to the gallery opening in Chelsea—says kindly, leaning a little farther over Janis’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Janis says casually, looking pleased.

“How did you get into art?” the coworker asks.

Janis pauses. “A… friend.”

Regina averts her eyes, feeling the familiar stab of guilt. Then she feels someone rest a hand on her knee under the table and nearly jumps, looking up to see Janis smiling softly at her. Tentatively, Regina smiles back.

Janis chats easily with some of Regina’s coworkers about art, and Regina is pleased that her coworkers seem to like Janis. She doesn’t even feel the need to get a second glass of wine.

Linda intercepts Janis and Regina as they’re heading over to the snack table. “Regina! So glad you and your… friend could make it.”

“ _Girlfriend_ , actually,” Janis says with a wide, fake smile, and drops an arm around Regina’s shoulders. “And we wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Of course,” Linda says, taking a small step back. “Well, we should be starting karaoke soon, so excuse me.”

“We should get out of here before they start singing,” Regina whispers to Janis, shuddering as she remembers her boss’s terrible rendition of “All I Want for Christmas Is You” from last year.

“Agreed,” Janis whispers back.

“Oh, Regina,” Kevin says excitedly, looking at something above their heads as they shrug on their coats.

Regina looks up and sees, with great displeasure, mistletoe hanging above their heads.

“This seems like an HR complaint waiting to happen,” Regina says, scowling.

“But it’s tradition! You have to kiss,” Kevin insists.

Regina is about to tell him that _tradition_ is often the cornerstone of HR complaints, but Linda steps in.

“No,” Linda says, looking uncomfortable. “They don’t have to; it’s not really appropriate.”

Regina steps towards her. “Appropriate? The fuck does _that_ mean?”

“You know what?” Regina hears Janis mutter behind her, then feels a hand on her wrist tugging her back to face Janis.

Janis gives her a pointed look and Regina just blinks at her, confused, until she feels a hand on the back of her neck pulling her in.

 _Oh_.

Even after being out for so many years, Regina often feels anxious being with girls, like she’s doing something her parents told her not to, and at any moment her father could come downstairs and catch her with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar.

But when their lips meet, there’s no knot in her stomach this time, no lingering guilt, and her hands instinctively settle on Janis’s waist. It feels comfortable and familiar, like she’s done this dozens of times before and not just longed to be close to Janis in this way for years.

The realization startles Regina and she tenses. Janis seems to sense the shift and steps back.

“It was lovely to meet you all,” Janis says with an overly saccharine smile to Linda, who looks like she just ate something sour.

Regina stands there dumbly for a moment before following Janis down the stairs.

As soon as they’re outside, Janis bursts out laughing. “God, did you _see_ her face?”

“Yeah,” Regina says, forcing a smile to her face that she hopes is nonchalant.

“I guess I can check making a straight person uncomfortable off on my daily gay agenda,” Janis jokes—because that’s what this is to her, Regina reminds herself. A joke. A fun story to tell over mimosas at brunch.

Meanwhile, Regina feels like she’s just gotten off of a roller coaster, her world tilted slightly, the ground shifting underneath her feet.

“Are you okay?”

Regina realizes she’s just standing there staring. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “Just tired.”

“I’ll let you get home, then,” Janis says. She looks at her phone. “I think it’s supposed to start snowing soon anyway.”

Regina stands on the sidewalk and watches Janis walk away until she’s swallowed by the crowd of pedestrians hurrying along Broadway.

* * *

Regina calls Shane the second she gets inside her apartment.

“Hi Gi,” he greets.

“Shane,” Regina says, then realizes she has no idea how to articulate how she’s feeling.

“…What?”

“Janis kissed me.”

Shane lets out a whoop so loud Regina has to hold the phone away from her ear. “Gay rights!” he shouts, something he annoyingly picked up from spending time with Damian.

“No, no, it’s not like that,” Regina says.

“Oh.” Shane sounds disappointed.

Regina explains what happened at the party.

“I think… I think I like her,” Regina admits quietly. “I think I’ve liked her for a long time and didn’t even know.”

“Wow.”

“I know; it’s fucked up.”

“Well, you do have a spotty track record with handling… feelings.”

“Hey!” Regina protests, and Shane laughs.

“So what are you going to do?” he asks gently.

“Nothing,” Regina says, resisting the urge to add _duh_. “Obviously she’d never be into me like that. I’ll just… try to get over it.”

“Hmm,” is all Shane says in response.

“What?”

“I just think you’re selling yourself short. You’re a catch.”

Regina scoffs. “You’re like my mom. You have to say stuff like that.”

“That’s not true. Your mom is way hotter than me.”

Regina ignores that comment.

“Plus,” Shane adds, “she did kiss you.”

“It wasn’t a _real_ kiss.”

“I know, but she wouldn’t have done it, even as a joke, if she was so opposed to the idea of being with you.”

Sometimes, Regina wishes Shane weren’t so supportive, so willing to look on the bright side—like right now, when she feels hope prickle in her chest.

After she hangs up with Shane, she sees a text from Janis.

**Janis Sarkisian:** how come every time it rains or snows here everyone forgets how to just walk on the fucking sidewalk

Regina smiles, thinking about the woman who nearly smacked her in the head with her umbrella earlier.

**Regina George:** It’s too bad when someone hits you with their umbrella you can’t hit them back

 **Janis Sarkisian:** you can if you just run away really fast after

 **Regina George:** Something you want to confess to?

 **Janis Sarkisian:** pfft imagine me running

Regina has a hard time falling asleep that night. She lies awake in her bed, digging through her memories with Janis and trying to decipher her feelings. When she closes her eyes, she can still feel the gentle pressure of Janis’s lips against her own.

Sleep doesn’t come for a long time.

* * *

_“Come on, you can’t just sit here all day.”_

_Regina sighs and reluctantly stands, grabbing onto the wall for support as she wobbles in her figure skates. “Okay, but you can’t laugh at me.”_

_“I’ll only laugh at you if you fall on your butt,” Janis offers._

_“Gee, thanks,” Regina says irritably. “Not all of us played hockey.”_

_“But luckily for you, I did,” Janis says, “so I won’t let you fall.”_

_Tentatively, Regina follows Janis onto the ice, clinging onto the side of the rink as her feet nearly slip out from under her._

_“I got you,” Janis says, slipping an arm under one of Regina’s._

_Carefully, they make their way around the perimeter of the rink. After a few times around, Regina is out of breath and a little sweaty. She looks at Janis, whose cheeks are tinged red from the cold and the exertion, and absently thinks she looks beautiful._

* * *

Regina tells herself that she needs some time away from Janis to get over her… crisis. That lasts two days.

“I thought you didn’t like doing touristy things,” Regina says when she meets Janis at the Rockefeller Center ice rink.

Janis shrugs. “I’m entitled to one touristy Christmas activity per year.”

“I don’t think there’s a limit on that kind of thing.”

“I have a personal limit on being surrounded by people in Santa hats taking selfies in the middle of the sidewalk.”

On the ice in front of them, a group of girls gather to take a selfie, people veering unsteadily around them in an effort not to crash. Janis looks at her with her eyebrows raised, as if to say _see?_

“So, do you still suck at skating?” Janis asks as they lace up their rental skates.

“Ha ha,” Regina says sarcastically. She actually went skating with Cady several times during high school because Cady had never been skating but was very excited about learning. “I think I’ll be okay.”

She gingerly follows Janis out to the ice—she’s gotten better, but there are still a lot of people here and she’d rather not fall on her ass in front of them.

“Not bad, George,” Janis appraises as she watches Regina shuffle awkwardly but without the assistance of the wall.

Once Regina gets used to the rhythm of shuffling and sliding, she chances a glance up at Janis, who is skating a few paces ahead of her, looking back over her shoulder to make sure Regina is still standing. The late afternoon sun makes the giant Christmas tree behind her seem like it’s glowing, and Janis’s easy smile and flushed cheeks make something flutter in Regina’s stomach.

Suddenly, a little boy on hockey skates darts in front of Regina and she stumbles, losing her balance and pitching forward. She closes her eyes and braces for impact.

“Whoa!”

Regina feels arms wrap around her waist and opens her eyes to see dark hair tickling her nose. She lifts her head to see Janis, looking like she’s trying not to laugh.

“You almost just took out that child,” Janis says.

“Excuse me? That child almost just took _me_ out.”

Janis just laughs. They’re so close Regina can feel her breath hitting her face. Regina feels her heart beat faster, and her brain unhelpfully replays the memory of Janis kissing her.

“Hello? You in there?”

Regina realizes Janis is giving her an odd lock. “Sorry, what?”

“Are you good for me to let go?” Janis asks, and Regina realizes she’s still holding onto Janis’s upper arms.

“Oh!” Regina releases her grip. “Sorry.”

“If we start skating again can I trust you not to run over any children?”

“Very funny.”

* * *

“When are you heading back to Evanston for the holidays?” Janis asks. They’re seated in a coffee shop, warming up as the last of the day’s light fades.

Regina wraps her fingers around her green tea, savoring the warmth from the cup. “The 23rd. I’m only staying a few days.”

“My flight is tomorrow morning,” Janis says. She breaks off a piece of the absurdly large cookie she bought with her coffee, then gestures to it. “You want some?”

Regina’s mind already starts calculating how much sugar is in the cookie, how much she’ll be eating this week when she gets to her parents’ house. She shakes her head.

“Come on,” Janis goads. “I don’t think I can eat this whole thing by myself.”

“I’m trying to lose three pounds,” Regina jokes.

Janis’s eyes turn sad. “You know I’m sorry about that, right?”

“Oh.” Regina blinks. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Yes, I do,” Janis says, pushing away the cookie and looking at her seriously. “I should have said it sooner.”

“It’s fine. What I did was worse, and I forgave you years ago, anyway.” Regina looks down at her cup. She doesn’t like thinking about that time in high school, at her rock bottom, after losing her friends, her looks, her basic ability to care for herself, after the bus.

“Well, I’m still sorry,” Janis tells her, “and I forgive you, too.”

Regina’s head snaps up. “You do?”

“Yes,” Janis says simply.

“Can I get that in writing?”

“Don’t push it.”

Regina smiles to herself, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“I think we’ve both moved past what happened in middle and high school,” Janis says. “And I’m glad we can be friends now.”

It’s all Regina’s ever wanted to hear for years, but the word _friends_ stings a little. She’s gotten what she wanted, but now she wants more.

“Yeah. Friends,” she repeats.

* * *

Regina’s mother chatters incessantly the entire ride from O’Hare Airport to Evanston. Regina rests her head against the cool glass of the window, finding herself longing for the crowded, dirty streets of New York instead of wide, neatly manicured, snow-covered lawns.

The house is dark and still; Regina’s father isn’t one to take off work, even around the holidays, unless it involves golf or a yacht. Her sister is at a friend’s house, and Regina decides to do the same, grabbing her car keys off the hook by the back door.

Her mother doesn’t bother asking where she’s going.

Regina could make the drive from her house to Shane’s with her eyes closed, and before she knows it she’s on his front porch, listening to the familiar chime of his doorbell.

The door opens, revealing Shane’s mom, Nancy, in a purple velour track suit. “Regina!” she says delightedly.

“REGINA!” she hears Shane bellow, followed by his footsteps thundering down the stairs, before she’s nearly knocked off her feet with a hug. She buries her nose in his Illinois State hoodie and breathes in the Axe body spray he never outgrew, tears prickling her eyes as she realizes just how much she’s missed him.

“For Pete’s sake, Shane, let her inside.”

Shane pulls back and grins, taking Regina by the hand and leading her into the house behind his mom.

“Have you eaten, sweetie? Can I make you some tea?” Nancy asks, filling a kettle with water without waiting for an answer.

“Tea is great,” Regina says gratefully.

“Oh, Regina!” Regina turns to see Shane’s other mom, Elizabeth. She wraps Regina in a hug. “It’s so good to see you, honey.”

Regina’s chest fills with warmth, feeling like she’s home for the first time since she stepped off the plane.

She chats with Shane’s moms about work and life in New York until Nancy has to go pick up Shane’s younger brother from basketball practice and Elizabeth heads to her room upstairs to finish some last-minute gift wrapping. Regina and Shane retreat into the basement rec room, which still smells like a mix of gym socks and the scented candles Shane’s mom has scattered around the room to try and mask the smell.

Regina sits down next to Shane on the couch and he immediately pulls her in close to his side. She leans into him and finally feels herself relax, grateful to be with the one person she can truly, totally drop her guard around, her only uncomplicated relationship.

“How are you? Have you seen your dad?” Shane asks.

“No. My mother picked me up from the airport and I came here as soon as I got home.”

“How’s Janis? You over her yet?”

Regina whacks him lightly on the chest. “Yeah, completely over it. It only took a week,” she deadpans.

“Well, that’s good.”

“She wants to be… friends,” Regina says, trying not to sound bitter. “She said she forgives me.”

“Hey, that’s great!” Shane says sincerely.

“I know.” Regina sighs. “I should be happy.”

“Give it time,” Shane says. “She has to get used to thinking of you as a friend before she thinks of you as anything else, right?”

“I…” Regina tries to figure out how to articulate what she’s thinking. “I worry that even though she forgives me, she doesn’t trust me, you know?”

“That might be true, but that takes time, too.”

“What if she never trusts me again?” Regina whispers.

“Just keep showing her that you care about her,” Shane tells her, leaning his cheek on top of Regina’s head, “and even if it doesn’t work out… you’ll find someone again. I know it.”

Regina closes her eyes. “I wish I could just be in love with you. That would be so much easier.”

“Yeah, too bad I’m out of your league.”

Regina whacks him again.

* * *

_“Do you like it?”_

_Carefully, Janis lifts the charm bracelet out of the box. It’s a delicate silver chain with multicolored charms Regina picked out specifically for her—a paint palette, a Doc Martens boot, a Scorpio sign._

_Regina lifts her wrist with her own charm bracelet on it and holds it up to Janis’s bracelet to fit together the half-heart charms, completing the message written on them—best friends._

_Janis smiles softly. “I love it. Thank you so much. I’ll wear it forever.”_

_Regina beams with pleasure, then turns to the gift sitting by her feet, wrapped in shimmery red and white paper. It’s large and rectangular, and it takes a moment of maneuvering to rest it in her lap to start unwrapping it._

_What’s under the paper takes Regina’s breath away._

_It’s a painting of one of Regina’s favorite photos of them, taken on a snow day they had last year. Regina has her head back, laughing at a joke she no longer remembers. Janis, grinning, has her hand on Regina’s shoulder. Snowflakes dot their hair and eyelashes._

_“Do you like it?” Janis echoes Regina’s question, and Regina realizes she’s just been staring at the painting in silence._

_“I love it so much,” Regina breathes. “It’s the best present I’ve ever gotten.”_

_Janis lights up with a grin, and Regina feels like the luckiest person in the world._

* * *

Regina sits curled up on the couch, looking down at the sea of wrapping paper covering the floor of her living room. Her sister is in the middle of unwrapping one her gifts when Regina’s phone chimes.

**Janis Sarkisian:** merry christmas ya filthy animal

Regina doesn’t realize she’s smiling until her mother asks, “Who is it, honey?”

“Uh, Shane,” Regina lies, locking her phone.

“He’s such a nice young man,” Regina’s father says. “You really should give him another chance.”

Regina feels her shoulders contract with tension, the familiar flare of hurt and anger warming her stomach.

“That would make you happy, wouldn’t it?” Regina asks bitterly.

“Yes,” her father says evenly, “it would.”

Regina sees her mother look at her, eyes pleading with her not to make a scene.

Regina sets her jaw and looks out the window and doesn’t say anything further.

* * *

Every year, Gretchen hosts a holiday party the Saturday closest to Christmas, when most everyone is still home visiting family in Evanston, and Regina is grateful for the excuse to get out of the houses.

Her emotional exhaustion must read on her face, because Karen takes one look at her and immediately hands her a shot. Regina downs it, then another. Then Karen hugs her.

“Don’t be sad,” Karen says brightly. “Parties are supposed to be fun.”

Regina supposes she’s right.

She’s buzzed by the time Cady shows up, rushing at Regina with an ear-piercing squeal to hug her.

“Hi!” Cady says excitedly.

Cady’s hair is shorter and redder, which Regina thinks suits her, but she still uses the same strawberry shampoo she used when they were in high school. It’s a comforting smell; it reminds Regina of their sleepovers.

“You smell like tequila,” Cady says, apparently not feeling similarly nostalgic.

“What are you, the police?”

Cady laughs loudly, and it makes Regina smile. She missed that sound. Then Cady’s eyes light up as she spots someone over Regina’s shoulder.

“Janis!”

Regina turns, and her eyes immediately land on Janis’s legs, which are bare except for a pair of patterned fishnet tights tucked into black Doc Martens. She’s paired it with a short, tight-fitting burgundy dress, a leather jacket, and a lot of eyeliner. It’s really working for Regina.

“Regina?”

Regina blinks, realizing she’d been just standing there, staring. “What?”

Cady raises an eyebrow at her. “I asked if you wanted to go dance,” she says.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Give me a minute,” Regina says, waving them off.

She needs another drink first.

* * *

Regina feels amazing.

For all of the things that she finds annoying about Kevin G., he has great taste in music, and it’s become tradition for him to DJ at Gretchen’s parties.

Her limbs feel heavy and light at the same time, the pleasant buzz that began in her stomach spreading throughout her body, and she hasn’t thought about her father in at least an hour.

But the best part is that Janis is here, dancing with her, moving closes enough that Regina can see the small beads of sweat forming in her hairline and each individual eyelash.

So she feels amazing. Except for the room spinning a little bit. She could do without that.

“Whoa, hey, are you okay?”

Regina looks at Janis, confused by the concern in her eyes. “Course I’m ‘kay,” Regina says, but that seems to worry Janis more.

“Let’s get some air,” Janis suggests, then wraps an arm around Regina’s waist, so Regina doesn’t protest.

It isn’t until the cold night air hits her skin that Regina realizes how overheated she was. Janis sits down next to her on Gretchen’s back doorstep, pressing a bottle of water into Regina’s hands. Regina frowns at it, not sure when Janis picked it up.

“Are you okay?” Janis asks again. “Did something happen?”

“I’m amazing,” Regina assures her, smiling triumphantly when she gets the lid of the water bottle unscrewed.

“Is it your dad?” Janis presses. “We’re friends; you can tell me.”

 _Friends_. That word again. It sparks irritation in her chest. “I’m just a big lesbian disappointment; it’s nothing new.”

“What an asshole,” Janis says, and for some reason it makes Regina laugh a little.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Maybe I should just marry Shane. Everything would be so much easier.”

“Don’t do that to poor Shane.”

Regina looks at her, affronted. “You’re so mean to me,” she complains.

“No, I’m not.”

“No, you’re not.”

“But seriously,” Janis says, resting a hand on Regina’s shoulder, “don’t do that. You’ll find someone who makes you happy, and it won’t matter what your dad thinks.”

 _I’ve already found someone who makes me happy,_ Regina thinks, overwhelmed with the memory of Janis’s lips on hers. When she closes her eyes, she can almost feel it again.

Wait.

Janis uses the hand on Regina’s shoulder to push her away, albeit gently. “What are you doing?” Janis asks, looking very confused.

“Oh shit,” Regina whispers, one hand drifting absently to her lips. She feels a cold feeling wash over her that has nothing to do with the temperature outside. “I’m sorry.” She stands, legs shaky, desperate to get away before she starts crying.

“It’s okay; it’s just… I—” Janis seems at a loss for words. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m sorry,” Regina says again, yanking the door open.

“Regina!” Janis calls after her.

Inside, Regina looks for anyone that she knows who is sober enough to drive her home.

“Hey, Regina—oh my god, are you okay?” Cady grabs her elbows and looks at her with wide, concerned eyes.

“Can you drive me home?”

“Yeah,” Cady says, and Regina appreciates that she doesn’t ask any questions. “Let’s get your coat.”

* * *

“Do you want to talk about it?” Cady asks as she turns out of Gretchen’s street.

“No,” Regina says, resolutely staring out the window. It’s stupid to be upset over something she never had, she reminds herself. It doesn’t make her feel any better.

“Okay, then do you want to talk about you staring at Janis all night?”

“No.”

“What about—”

“Cady!” Regina snaps. “Can your birthday gift to me this year be silence for the rest of this ride?”

“Fine.”

Regina feels a little bad, but her head hurts and she needs to focus most of her attention on not throwing up in Cady’s car.

Cady pulls into Regina’s driveway and cuts the engine. “I hope you feel better. I’m here if you want to talk.”

“Thank you,” Regina says softly.  
Cady reaches over and squeezes Regina’s hand. 

Regina slides out of the car and heads inside, the house dark and still. She climbs the stairs as quietly as she can to her bathroom. She stares at herself in the mirror for a long time before she washes her face, brushes her teeth, and crawls into bed.

* * *

Regina wakes up the next morning feeling like shit.

She drags herself out of bed and into the shower, knowing that if she doesn’t get up now, she’ll miss her flight.

Her phone dings with a new text message.

**Janis Sarkisian:** can we talk?

Janis pushing her away last night replays in Regina’s mind.

She throws her phone back down onto her bed. She’ll deal with it later.

* * *

Once Regina gets back to her apartment, unpacks, takes another shower because planes are gross, and orders dinner, she runs out of excuses not to text Janis back.

**Regina George:** Yeah I’m really sorry, I was drunk and not in my right mind. Won’t happen again.

Her phone buzzes immediately.

**Janis Sarkisian:** it’s okay. i’m not mad. i just want to talk about it.

“Just drop it,” Regina grumbles at her phone.

Her doorbell rings, signaling that her food is here. She puts her phone down on the coffee table and tries to forget about it.

* * *

Janis leaves her alone for a day. The Regina’s phone starts buzzing like crazy in the middle of a meeting.

**Janis Sarkisian:** hey

 **Janis Sarkisian:** hey

 **Janis Sarkisian:** hey

 **Janis Sarkisian:** i can be a really annoying bitch!!!

 **Janis Sarkisian:** so i recommend you talk to me!

Regina shuts her phone off and tries to look apologetic when her coworkers start giving her dirty looks.

After the meeting, Regina turns her phone back on.

**Regina George:** Will you relax?

 **Janis Sarkisian:** no

 **Regina George:** I already told you I’m sorry

She stares at her phone for two full minutes, but Janis doesn’t respond.

For some reason, it hurts.

* * *

Regina is finishing the last of her dinner dishes when she hears her doorbell ring.

She tries to remember if she had seen any signs in the lobby about ConEdison coming to read the gas meters as she makes her way to the door. She turns the knob to reveal Janis.

Regina stares at her for a moment. “How did you get my address?” she asks, even though it doesn’t really matter.

“Shane,” Janis answers. “Can I come in?”

Regina steps aside.

“Wow,” Janis says. “Nice place.”

“I have high standards.”

“I never would have guessed.”

Janis starts browsing the books on Regina’s bookshelf, running her fingertips over the spines.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”

Janis looks at her, eyebrow raised. “You kissed me, ran away, and then ignored my texts.”

“What do you want me to say, Janis?” Regina pinches the bridge of her nose. “I was drunk, and you made it perfectly clear you weren’t interested.”

“What do you mean?” Janis asks, looking genuinely confused.

“You pushed me away,” Regina says slowly, starting to get annoyed at being put on the spot.

“Because you were wasted! There’s nothing romantic about impaired consent.”

“Wait,” Regina says, heart starting to thud in her chest, “it was just because I was drunk? Not because you don’t like me?”

“Correct.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah _oh_ , dumbass. I would have explained it to you, but you basically forced Cady to drive you home at gunpoint.”

Regina sits down on the couch. “I just… I really didn’t think you would ever like me.”

“Why not?” Janis sits down and faces her, leaning her elbow on the top of the couch. 

Regina stares down at her hands. “Because… well, it’s me. I hurt you.”

“If I still hated you, I would not hang out with you.”

“That’s what Shane said.”

“I think Shane is probably smarter than you are.”

Regina smacks her with a throw pillow. Janis lets out a little _oof_ and then they lapse into silence, looking at each other. Janis’s hair is starting to get longer, reaching her shoulders, and Regina wonders if she curled it or if it’s just naturally wavy. She thinks she’d really like to run her fingers through it.

“I’m not drunk,” Regina finally says.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you. So I can kiss you now?”

“Ooh, that hot, sexy consent,” Janis says, winking at her. “Sure.”

Regina’s first thought is that Janis’s hair is even softer than it looks as she threads her fingers through it.

She wonders if Janis can feel how hard Regina’s heart is beating, if that’s why she’s cupping Regina’s face so delicately, like Regina may break if she grips too hard.

It’s tentative and soft and sweet, and even better because it’s _real_. It’s real, and Regina finally gets the cliché butterflies in her stomach, like they were waiting for this moment.

* * *

_“One more minute until midnight!” Regina says excitedly, taking care not to speak too loudly and wake up her sister._

_Janis, who looks close to sleep herself, lifts her head. “There goes the ball,” she says, seeming suddenly more awake._

_On the television, the Times Square ball starts to descend, the countdown clock ticking down. Regina can hear the cheers of the crowd faintly in the background. In the dark, the colors from the television dance across Janis’s face, almost making her look like a painting._

_When the clock hits ten, Regina and Janis start counting down with the chant of the crowd. “Ten… nine… eight… seven…”_

_The clock hits zero and the crowd explodes into celebration._

_“Happy New Year!” Regina whisper-yells._

_Janis grins at her and wraps Regina into a bear hug._

_“What are you doing?” Regina laughs._

_“They say whatever you’re doing at midnight on New Year’s Eve is what you’ll be doing for the rest of the year,” Janis explains. “And I want to spend all year being your friend.”_

_Regina’s chest swells with affection. “I’ll be your friend forever, Janis.”_

* * *

“This is the worst thing you’ve ever asked me to do.”

“That is one hundred percent not true.”

A tourist blowing one of those high-pitched noisemakers bumps into them, and Janis looks at Regina with her eyebrows as if to say _see?_

Admittedly, this whole experience hasn’t been terribly pleasant thus far; they had to stake out a spot in Times Square hours ago, and Regina’s back aches from standing and she has to keep sticking her hands inside her coat to keep them from freezing completely. But it’ll be worth it. She just knows it.

“You only have to make it through a couple more minutes, and then I’ll never make you do this again,” Regina promises.

Janis sighs dramatically. Privately, Regina thinks she doesn’t hate this as much as she says she does. “Fine.”

Regina rests her head against Janis’s shoulder, unable to resist smiling a little as she feels the frenetic energy building in the crowd as the clock inches towards midnight.

Suddenly, the ball starts to descend, and Regina lifts her head so quickly she nearly collides with Janis’s head. It’s impossible not to get caught up in the excitement of the crowd.

Janis squeezes her hand as the clock counts down to ten… nine… eight…

The clock hits one, and Regina turns to Janis, the colors from the fireworks reflecting on her face. For a moment, they just smile at each other.

“Happy New Year,” Regina says, having to shout to be heard above the crowd.

“Happy New Year,” Janis repeats.

And then Janis leads down and kisses her.

And it’s perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> My old apartment building really did have "fuck bitches, get money” written on it in pink paint.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [erikahenningsen](https://erikahenningsen.tumblr.com/)


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